


The Worth of Observance

by thecurlyginger



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Pep Talk, and if you don't that's okay too, look it's pretty ambiguous, so if you want to see it as romantic there you go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 12:49:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecurlyginger/pseuds/thecurlyginger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ori questions his worth in Thorin's company, and Fíli provides reassurance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Worth of Observance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [doctortatertots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctortatertots/gifts).



> Written to cheer my friend up and because I needed to write SOMETHING to make up for the hours I've spent wadding my way through Hobbit fics from the time there were only 200 of them.

Ori never considered himself to be smart - he just preoccupied himself with reading and observing. There was little else to do, what with Dori out selling his crafts so they could eat or Nori doing whatever Nori kept from him for an income. When at his loneliest, Ori comforted himself with new facts or imagined that when two flowers bloomed beside each other, it was because they were rooting their lives together. 

He would eventually find himself later, never lonely in the company of twelve other dwarves, a wizard, and a hobbit. Yet Ori still felt comforted by the weight of his journal in his pack and the private act of detailing their journey. At night when the sound of orcs scared him to an upright position, shaking on his bed roll, he quickly rustled through all of his belongings to find the hefty book. His poor hands couldn't be still enough to turn the pages, and before he knew it, quiet sobs racked his body.

A hand touched his back, and he nearly jumped.

“All right there, Ori?” It was Fíli, gently smiling as he stood between Ori's and Nori's roll.

Ori quickly wiped his tears away with his mittens and nodded hastily, blushing profusely. 

“'Course I am,” but he knew he wasn't fooling the dwarven prince. Fíli guided Ori to a standing position and then over to the fire where he was keeping watch. Kíli laid wrapped in both his and his brother's blankets a short distance away. Without thinking, Ori sat beside Fíli and relinquished his journal without a sound when his companion reached to look at it.

Feeling somewhat calmed, Ori took a deep breath and looked over to Fíli, who's hair shined like gold in the fire's light. Ori felt self-conscious when his sketches were being observed, but the light smile on the prince's face reassured him.

“I had no idea we had a scholar in our wake.” 

Ori sputtered his disagreement. “Oh no, I just – I like to read. I would trade anything, even all my knowledge in the world, though, to fight like you or Thorin. Maybe then I would be of use in this company.”

He half-expected Fíli to immediately disagree out of kindness, but instead, he was met with silence and a soft look. Ori looked back to the fire, suddenly more uncomfortable than he had been when the prince directed that gaze to his journal.

“You underestimate your worth here, Ori.” They locked eyes, Ori's shocked ones unblinking while Fíli's soft ones crinkled with his smile. “But so did I, and so do I continue to when faced with this journey's hardships. You observe, though. You probably see more than any of us do. The rest of us, even my uncle, look only to the path and to Erebor. You see the flowers we pass, their past, their future. While we trample over them without care, you preserve them, even if only in memory and in pencil strokes.”

Ori's lips turned up in a sad smile as he looked down to his journal sitting between them. “But that does nothing to reclaim our land. It does nothing to protect my brothers or you or anyone else.” He felt Fíli's gentle hand at his elbow and turned his attention back to the young prince.

“It protects our souls and our memories. If we die trying and someone comes across your work, they will know that we did this, not out of greed, but out of honour. That at least one out of us found worth in the land, regardless if it was ours to take back or if even elves called it their home.”

They both remained silent, only the crackling of the fire sounding out into the night. Eventually, Dwalin shuffled away ready to take over the watch. Fíli stood up, grabbing Ori's journal and reaching to pull him up as well before handing it over. Ori wordlessly took it and turned towards his bedroll before looking back.

“You'll make a great king one day.”

“Aye? Then you will make a great councilman to keep me informed and prevent me from sounding like an arse.”

Ori silently returned to his mat between his two brothers, hearing Kíli's protests as his brother reclaimed his blanket. His smile as wide as it was genuine, Ori laid down and fell asleep clutching his journal, thinking not of the gold of Erebor or of the most beautiful daisy, but of the golden hair of his companion.


End file.
